


That Boy Is A Monster

by pringlesaremydivision



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Children, Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8473213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision
Summary: “Hi,” says the monster.“What the hell,” Link whispers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the Rhink Fall Ficathon 2k16 prompt _Rhett is the monster that lives under Link’s bed. He’s actually pretty cool once you get to know him._ Huge thanks as always to [Rachelle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MythicallySnappy/pseuds/MythicallySnappy) for beetaing and encouragement, and [Amanda]() for coming up with the prompt and being there in spirit. ;)

They’ve been living in Mr. Capps’—“Jimmy, honey,” Link can hear his mother saying, “you don’t have to call him dad but at least call him Jimmy, please”— _Jimmy’s_ house for about six months when Link first hears the rustling under his bed.

He thinks about calling for his mom, but he remembers—she’s on night duty tonight at the hospital, won’t be home for another six hours, which leaves Jimmy and Link’s step-sister Emmie. He’s not comfortable hollering for Jimmy, which would mean he’d have to jump out of bed, as far as he could, and then run down the hallway to wake him up. Link’s not the slowest runner in his class, but he’s certainly not the fastest, either, and what if he slips on the rag rug covering the worn hardwood floor when he jumps and he loses his balance and falls and then whatever’s under the bed gets its slimy tentacles on him and—

Mama calls Link a handful sometimes, when she’s tired after work and he’s full of energy and peanut butter and he won’t stop talking, but he’s pretty sure she’d miss him if he got eaten.

So Jimmy’s out, then.

Emmie is in the next room over, and Link can tell she’s still awake because he can hear her talking on the phone. He could probably yell for her without bothering Jimmy, but she’d be so annoyed with him for interrupting her conversation she might just ignore him, and if she didn’t she’d probably call him a big baby and refuse to even look under the bed, and then he’d be in the same position he is now but embarrassed on top of it all, and at that point he’d rather be a big old mess of monster meal anyway. Or—or what if she _did_ look under the bed, and the monster got her and ate _her?_ How would Link explain that to Jimmy? Sure, Jimmy yells at Emmie when she talks back to him, but that doesn’t mean he’d be okay with her being gone forever, and he’d blame Link and kick him and Mama out, and then where would they be? He doesn’t wanna go back to living with Nana and Pop-Pop. It’s not that he doesn’t love them, it’s just—there’s not a lot of room with four people living there and only two bedrooms. Here at Jimmy’s house he has a room of his own and except for the monster, he really likes it. Plus it’s nice being in town instead of way out in the middle of nowhere.

Link sighs. That’s it. He’s on his own.

For a moment he considers just trying to ignore it and go back to sleep, but as soon as he looks at his pillow the monster scrabbles long fingernails against the bottom of his mattress, as if to say “don’t even think about it, buddy.”

Great. He’s got a monster that can read minds.

Link knows the monster rules, knows he can’t be hurt if he’s under his blankets, but he’s not sure if that applies only when he’s on his bed, or if their protection will follow him no matter where he goes. One way or another, he’s going to have to investigate, because he has to get some sleep. Link tugs the comforter around his shoulders, clutching it tightly in his shaking fingers, and takes a deep breath. He sends up a quick prayer to God— _please don’t let me get eaten and if I do please take care of Mama, thank you God, amen_ —then slowly, cautiously leans his head over the side of his bed, peering into the darkness below.

“Hi,” says the monster.

“What the _hell_ ,” Link whispers. Mama says he’s not supposed to curse but he’s pretty sure this is a situation where she wouldn’t mind. Under his bed is—well, Link _guesses_ he’s a monster, because he’s under his bed and that’s where monsters go, but he _looks_ just like a regular little boy, like Link except that his hair is yellow instead of brown. He’s curled up between the bottom of Link’s mattress and the floor and he looks real uncomfortable all squished up like that, and Link doesn’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work either. Monsters aren’t supposed to look uncomfortable, they’re supposed to look scary, and if anything, this monster looks _scared_.

Plus, Link is almost positive monsters don’t talk, or if they do they say things like _I’m gonna eat you_ and _you’re dead meat_ and _fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of a_ …

No, that’s giants. Well, monsters or giants or whatever kind of creature, Link doesn’t think any of them say _hi_.

The monster blinks at him, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth—teeth, Link notes, that look perfectly blunt and very human, not the sharp fangs he was expecting. In fact, he thinks, running his tongue over his own teeth, he’s pretty sure he’s got sharper teeth than this chump.

He feels indignant, suddenly. All this fuss for a monster that doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly? If Link had known from the beginning that he had a baby monster under his bed, he wouldn’t have even bothered worrying about it, would’ve just rolled back over and gone to bed, scratching noises be danged.

“Some monster you are,” he huffs, a scowl settling on his face.

“I’m not a monster,” the monster replies, sounding hurt. “I’m Rhett.”

“What’s a Rhett?” Link asks, intrigued despite himself. He has some books on mythology, so he knows quite a few mythical beasts, but he’s never heard of a Rhett before. He wonders if maybe Rhetts start out looking like little boys and then transform into huge, flesh-eating beasts when they gain the trust of their victims, and a seed of worry starts to bloom in his stomach again.

The Rhett rolls its eyes, an action Link has seen a million times on his step-sister’s face. These Rhetts are dangerous, if they can mimic human expressions that closely. “It’s my _name_ , stupid.”

“I didn’t know monsters had names.”

“Why do you keep _sayin’_ that? I’m not a monster, my name is Rhett McLaughlin and I’m six and a half and I just moved here from California and can I please come out, I’m gettin’ smushed under here.”

The Rhett looks like he’s gonna cry, and Link doesn’t want that, whether he’s a lying sneaking beast-in-waiting or not. He hates seeing people cry, saw his Mama do it enough before she and Jimmy got together, late at night when she thought Link was asleep on the other side of the room in Nana and Pop-Pop’s little house in the country. Link reckons he’ll do just about anything to keep somebody from crying, even if that somebody might end up killing him in the end.

“Yeah, ‘course. I’m—I’m Link,” he says, cautiously extending a hand under the bed to help the Rhett. If he’s gonna get taken and eaten, this is the time for it to happen—all the Rhett has to do is grab hold and _yank_ , and Link will be devoured before he knows it, just a pile of bones for Mama to discover in the morning when she comes home from work.

But none of that happens. Instead, the Rhett wraps long fingers around Link’s shorter ones, scooting out slowly, inch by inch, until he’s out from under the bed. Then, instead of yanking, he lets go and stretches his arms over his head, then stands and looks at Link nervously.

Link examines his hand, which is damp with whatever substance the Rhett excreted through his palms when they touched. “You’re slimy,” he muses. He’s doesn’t mean for it to be mean, but the Rhett’s face falls, and Link immediately feels bad.

“Sorry, my hands sweat a lot. Daddy says it runs in the family.” The Rhett wipes his hands hurriedly on his green polo shirt, then sticks out his right hand in an approximation of a human handshake. “Like I said, I’m Rhett. Rhett James McLaughlin.”

Link glances at the outstretched hand, eyebrows raised, before taking it and pumping it twice like he’s seen Jimmy and Pop-Pop do when they have dinner together. The Rhett winces.

“Dang, you’re strong,” the Rhett says, and Link grins. He must be, for a monster to think so. “Bet I’m stronger though,” the Rhett continues.

“Well of course you are,” Link replies, glaring, “you’re a monster, monsters are always stronger than little kids. You don’t gotta show it off or nothin’.”

The Rhett looks furious, big hands balled into fists by his sides. “ _Why_ do you think I’m a monster? I told you my whole name. What kinda monster has a whole name?”

Link considers this. It’s a good point. Still…

“If you ain’t a monster, what’re you doin’ under my bed?”

“Uh.” The Rhett scratches the back of his neck, looking away. He draws a half circle with the toe of his sneakers on the floor in front of him, the rubber squeaking softly on the hardwood surface. “I got lost,” he finally mumbles, all the words smushed together. He glances at Link then glances away just as quickly, face bright red in the moonlight.

“Whaddya mean you got _lost_?” Link asks. He looks at the space at the foot of his bed, calculates the risk, then extends his hand again. “You can sit down, if you wanna.”

The Rhett doesn’t take his hand, but he does clamber up onto the bed next to Link, folding his long legs into a pretzel and looking down at his hands for a long moment before replying. “Well, like I said, we just moved in last week from California, and Cole—that’s my brother, he’s nine—he already found some guys to hang out with, and he’s spendin’ the night at one of their houses tonight, and I wanted to do somethin’ fun too, so after Mama and Daddy went to bed I snuck out my window to go exploring, only—only I got turned around somehow, and I couldn’t figure out how to get back home.” There’s a tremble in his voice that Link recognizes well, and he scoots over to put his arm tentatively around the Rhett’s shoulders like his mama always does when Link’s sad. 

“Okay,” Link prompts, when it doesn’t seem like the Rhett is going to say anything else, “but how’d you get under my bed?”

“Oh!” the Rhett says. “Well, I saw a lady leave around sunset, and I saw you walkin’ around in your room, and I thought—he looks like he’s my age, and maybe he’ll help me find my way back home.” The Rhett giggles. It’s bright and unexpected and it makes Link giggle too, even though he doesn’t know what’s funny. “So I snuck in your window and under your bed when I saw you leave, but then I—well, I fell asleep waitin’ for you to come back.”

“So you’re really, really not a monster?” Link asks, feeling equal parts disappointed and relieved. He hadn’t _really_ wanted to face down a monster, but if the Rhett _had_ been a monster, Link is pretty sure he could’ve vanquished him, and that would’ve been a heck of a ‘how I spent my summer vacation’ story.

“Nuh-uh,” the Rhett—no, Link corrects himself, not _the Rhett_ , just _Rhett_ —replies, shaking his head. “I’m just a kid.”

“Huh,” Link says. “Bummer.” He turns to look at Rhett, and suddenly they’re both cracking up, fitful laughter that’s got them grabbing pillows to bury their faces to muffle the sound. Link feels a weird warmth spreading through him, like coming in from the snow on a blustery winter day.

“Listen,” Rhett says when they’ve both calmed down a little, giggles dying down to the occasional snort and chuckle, “I really—I better get back home. If my Daddy wakes up and I’m not in bed, I’m gonna get a whuppin’.” He says it calmly, but Link grimaces.

“Where do you live?” Link asks. If it’s in Buies Creek, it can’t be that far. The town is tiny, and Link had it mapped out within the first month of moving here. Wherever it is, Link’s sure he can help Rhett find his way back without too much trouble.

Rhett rattles off his address, and Link lets out a whistle like his Dad taught him. “Man, you got _real_ lost. That’s on the other side of town.” Rhett turns worried eyes his way, and Link hastens to reassure him. “It’s okay, though. We can take my bike, I’ll get you back before you know it.”

Rhett’s smile lights up his eyes and pushes up his cheeks, and Link wants to pinch them like Nana likes to pinch his. But he refrains, because he doesn’t like it when she does it and he doesn’t think Rhett would like it much either. Instead, he runs a hand through his hair then throws the comforter off his shoulders, monster protection now completely unnecessary. Even if a monster did show up right now, a real one, all dripping and gross and slimy, Link’s pretty sure that he and Rhett would be able to defeat it no problem.

Still smiling, Link stands and slips on his sandals, then walks towards the door. He turns when he doesn’t hear anything behind him, and finds Rhett still sitting on the bed, looking unsure. “C’mon, man,” he says, waving him over.

“We ain’t gonna go out the window?” Rhett asks.

Link shakes his head. “Nah. Jimmy—that’s my step-dad—Mama says he sleeps like the dead. He’ll never notice we’re gone.”

“What about the girl?”

“Emmie?” Link snorts. “Even if she saw me sneakin’ out, all I’d have to do is tell her I saw her kissin’ Ricky Jackson behind the school last week, and that if she don’t keep her mouth shut I’ll tell Jimmy and Mama and she’ll be in _so much trouble_.”

Rhett grins. “My Daddy calls that kinda thing blackmail. He’s a law professor. He just got a job at Campbell University. That’s why we moved here.”

“Well, it might be blackmail, I dunno, but it means she doesn’t snitch on me to Mama, and that’s good enough for me.” Link shrugs. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Link’s bike is propped up against the side of the house, and he feels a brief pang of embarrassment when he looks at it, sees the rusty spokes and the chipped green paint, but Rhett doesn’t seem to mind. “You’re so lucky,” he says, running a hand over the handlebars. “We had to leave my bike back in California, and Mama’s been so busy unpacking we haven’t had a chance to get me a new one yet.”

“Well,” Link offers, “you can ride double with me until you get one.” He pauses. “I mean—if you wanna.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Rhett says, enthusiastically, and Link grins.

“Hop on.”

The August air is warm and sticky, even at night, but the bike ride creates enough breeze to make Link shiver as he stands and pedals, Rhett behind him on the seat. When Rhett loops his long skinny arms around Link’s middle, Link shivers again, but it isn’t because he’s cold.

As they ride through town, Link points out landmarks to Rhett, showing him the path that leads to the river, the gas station that sells the kind of soda he likes, and the elementary school where Link is starting first grade in two days.

“Me too!” Rhett exclaims. “Hey, do you think we’ll be in the same class?”

“My teacher is Miss Locklear,” Link answers. “What about you?”

“Me too!” Rhett repeats, and he squeezes Link tight as they round the corner onto a cul-de-sac. Link’s ears heat up. “This is gonna be great, buddyroll!”

Link giggles. “Buddyroll? That’s silly.”

“You’re silly.”

“You’re stupid.”

“You’re a doofus.”

“You’re—home,” Link says, stopping abruptly in front of the address Rhett had given him. It’s a nice house, bigger than Jimmy’s, with two cars in the driveway and a basketball goal out front. “Um. This is it, right?”

Rhett looks over at the house, then slowly unwinds himself from around Link. “Yup. _Gosh_ , you saved my life. I woulda never found the way back here by myself.” Hopping off the bike, he shuffles from side to side for a moment before he leans in and hugs Link tight, then hurries away across the lawn, heading towards the tree whose branches lead up to an open window on the second story.

“Hey Rhett?” Link calls softly. Rhett stops in his tracks, turning to face Link, his hands in his pockets. “I’m—I’m glad you’re not a monster.”

Rhett grins real wide, and it makes Link smile. “Me too.”


End file.
